Michael: Miracles

 The sun falls slowly,

Peeks meekly through the gray haze

Of the ocean fog.

 Tuesday, August 25, 2020

Now that it’s convention season let me state my position clearly.

My opponent on the right is hoping for a miracle. Not because he’s at all a believer, but because that’s all he’s intellectually capable of. He seems to be somewhat of a hedonistic pagan who, instead of sacrificing a virgin or first born, is hoping the gods will be appeased by the deaths of the old and weak.

 My opponent on the left states “No miracle is coming.” Which is a pretty bleak stance for someone of faith. As an atheist, this is much more closely aligned with my views. But that isn’t the same as saying we should be fatalistic and without hope.

I say when intelligent people, aware of the facts, make reasonable and responsible decisions, risks are minimized, and we all win.

Distancing, good air circulation and a face covering where appropriate are working. Thank you all for observing our guidelines. That’s keeping our business open and me happily employed.

Michael: The Mouth of the Gift Horse

 The air is heavy;

Wrapping us in a blanket

Of heat and fatigue.

 Thursday, August 20, 2020

The bicycles that were promised to me by a very gracious guest were delivered at work Sunday when the guest arrived for another week’s stay. One was titanium from Mosaic and the other was a carbon fiber Odlo? Neither brand have I heard of.

The components on the Mosaic, however, were familiar, Shimano Dura Ace electric with Fulcrum disc wheels. Those I hope to swap over to a new Cervelo R5 frame. I’m hoping for a straight up exchange of the frame for the labor involved in the changeover. I’ve contacted Incycle Bicycles in Pasadena and am waiting to hear back.

Even if they agree I know it won’t be as simple as dropping the bike and frameset off and letting them have at it. This is going to be a ménage-a-trios of bikes with a few expensive toys thrown it to boot.

First off I want the new bike to fit exactly as my current bike. I’d also like to swap out the contact points on my current bike to the new bike, except the handlebars. Those I’m hoping to upgrade to possibly a one-piece quasi- stem/aero bar.

The headset on the Mosaic is Chris King which I’ve never had but they have the reputation of being top notch. Only problem is there red and don’t exactly go with the deep green/hi-viz highlights of the Cervelo, but I’m going to live with that. Who knows? It may even make the bike standout as a custom build Christmas kind of beauty.

If those are the only changes I end up making I’ll get a fantastic bike for a fraction of what it would cost off the shelf. But I doubt it’s going to be that clean or cheap. Hey, but I’m not going to look this gift horse over and complain about the niggles of putting this new bike together. I was happily riding along and know with even a few costs over runs I’ll be happier with a quasi-new bike with electronic shifting and hydraulic disc brakes.

It won’t be the Celeste Bianchi of my dreams. That may never be. But it may just end up being a better performer and I’m grateful for the opportunity to do this and get out there and enjoy the canyons of SoCal on what will be a fantastic bike.

Michael: Manson Above; Lion Below

 Remnants from the storm;

The wandering summer clouds

Bring a light shower.

 Thursday, August 13, 2020

We had one of those David Lynch moments yesterday.

Two older white-haired women wearing masks walked up to our porch yesterday and first asked if our dog was friendly; which I gave an unusual for me but probably typical sounding country answer; sometimes.

After I got Luna to stop barking, they asked if we lived here. We said we’ve been renting the lower floor for a year and a half. The thinner of the two women then told us that her friend had grown up here and just wanted to look around.

She told us that in the 60s this was a bit of a cult house and that Charles Manson helped put the aerial on the roof up during one of his stays at the trailer he sometimes hid out in on the property right above us.

Below us she said the neighbor had a lion that intimidated one of the other neighbors so she believes it was secretly poisoned.

She said the house was just as she remembered it and we told her that our place was still divided into the two small rooms she described. They wanted to ask our landlords if they could walk around the property, but they weren’t home at the time. So they said goodbye and that was that.

KImme googled Topanga and Manson and discovered that Rolling Stone had reported that he hid out in two places in Topanga, so her story checks out.

It was an interesting tid bit completely out of the blue and an otherwise lazy afternoon that we’ll now never forget.

Michael :Christmas in August

 She is unaware

Of the cruelty humans

Are capable of.

Tuesday, August 11, 2020

A long-term guest at our wellness retreat has offered me two bicycles he has barely ridden. The fact that he’s 6’2” and it’s unlikely they’ll fit me didn’t stop me from immediately accepting his gracious offer.

A few of my fellow workers suggest that I should sell them. But I feel that would be bad karma. Someone offers you a gift because they feel you’re passionate about it, then to turn around and sell it…doesn’t work for me.

But since I can’t make use of them as is, I figure I can use the parts on a proper fitting frame and trade in the gift frame for the maintenance of getting a bike mechanic to assemble and properly fit it to me.

I was leaning toward getting a Bianchi frame as I’ve always had a desire to ride a celeste Bianchi. But the Otre X4 is $6k and I can’t see spending that kind of money on a frameset during these precarious times when I’m unsure of steady employment and so many people are in need.

Fortunately, I have found a LTD Cervelo R5 2019 frameset on sale for just over $2k which seems very reasonable. That means I will build a top of the line bike with disc brakes for far less than most decent intro bikes with rim brakes.

That’s an opportunity that makes me both feel as giddy as a child at Christmas and reasonably guilt free as an adult.

Michael: The Fox Apocalypse

 She pins her ears back;

Aware of the small rabbit

At the trail’s end.

Friday, August 7, 2020

My mother is 86 years old. That’s 24 years older than I am. There was never a point in our lives where we agreed politically as she was always a bit conservative and I’ve always leaned toward democratic socialism.

My views have stayed fairly consistent but for some reason over the past decade my mother has strangely morphed into a quasi Trumpster. And I don’t know how I feel about this.

Of course I still love her and there’s much we can talk about outside of politics, but it is strange. And it has changed how I view all those people who are ridiculed mercilessly by the likes of Jordan Klepper when he interviews Trump devotees at his rallies.

I used to get a good chuckle at the hypocrisy of his mostly senior followers as they were caught completely unaware of how idiotic they sound. But I don’t feel my mom’s an idiot.

So what happened? That I cannot say. And I’m not going to push to hard on my mom to defend the indefensible. I figure at this point the best thing I can do is listen and try to, as gently as I can, point out that there are differences of opinion as to the various solutions to the many difficulties our country faces. Hopefully we can at least sometimes agree that people can mean well while holding vastly differing ideas about how to improve the conditions of the country that we’ve both grown old together in.

Michael: Happiness Runs

 She’s a pouty girl

Refusing to come inside

After a short walk.

 Thursday, July 30, 2020

"Happiness runs in a circle of motion. Floats like a little boat upon the sea.”, at least that’s how I remember part of the lyrics of an old Donovan song. A little throw away dittie on an album that has Mellow Yellow (maybe greatest hits?) on it. I’ll have to google that soon to see how the rest of it goes.

Come to think of it, there was also another; he must’ve been high at the time, bouncy tune called “I Love My Shirt” on that same album.

Now I’ll admit that I was running before that album came into existence and have been running ever since. And long ago in a much younger incarnation of myself, I probably even sang parts of those tunes while moving about. But rarely do I feel that bouncy or high while running. And I’ve never been much interested in finding out whether Donovan himself was a runner. Though I’m positive he experienced the high of smoking pot, something I can say I’ve never indulged in.

So is there a distinct runner’s high? Have I experienced it? And if not, why run?

Hell, I don’t know.

I watch my dog run after a squirrel of jog from gopher hole to gopher hole. She’s got a purpose and doesn’t seem to have any time to ponder why she’s running or whether she’s showing good form or should throw in a speed session once a week to become more economic or successful at it

Gophers and bunnies don’t work for me. And if there’s not the high, what is there?

Many things. I’m proficient at it. It helps keep me in shape and that feels good on a few different levels. It’s at least meditative many times if that counts as ‘the high’.

They say you can run but you can’t hide. But it does feel you can at least hide for the time you’re running, and that often seems to be enough; particularly now.